


The Foistock Virus

by clevebereave



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Anal Sex, Blood, Choking, Incest, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-23
Updated: 2015-04-23
Packaged: 2018-03-25 11:11:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3808216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clevebereave/pseuds/clevebereave
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Morty has contracted a weird virus that will kill him if he doesn't mate with the first person that he saw at the moment of contracting the virus.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Foistock Virus

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this a few months ago and it's on a Tumblr I lost the password to. Finally decided to clean it up a bit and post it here. New tumblr is clevebereave if you've got some prompts for me.
> 
> I should be sorry, blah blah, you know what you're getting into

It came like a fever. Morty’s body grew hot and he ached down to the limbs. He woke right up in the dead of night with his body jolting upward rigidly. He gaped like a fish, dry-heaving between desperate inhales. Despite all of this, he was achingly hard with the heat of his arousal causing his entire pelvic region to throb almost painfully.

He planted a shaky foot on the ground and felt a comforting solidness that assured him it was reality. He stood from his bed, light-headed and his legs feeling damn near nonexistent under him. He was scared. He was nauseous. He was so aroused that the air on his skin felt like cruel, teasing fingers and while everything else seemed to be in a haze, one thought stood out in his mind with outstanding clarity; He needed Rick.

Rick wasn't hard to find. He had fallen asleep on the living room couch with an open copy of an unlabeled book resting on his chest. The book rose and fell with the shallow breaths. Years of dangerous adventures and experiments had turned Rick into a very light and paranoid sleeper.  


The patter of Morty’s bare feet against the wood caused Rick’s eyes to snap open. They searched, scanning frantically to find the intruder. He only breathed when he spotted Morty ambling toward him. “Y-you know what, Morty, I-I’m getting sick of this ‘3 AM Glass of Water’ shit, Morty. J-just bring a glass with you like any- like- like any reasonable person.”

“I-I don’t know what’s wuh-wrong with me Rick. I don’t know. I don’t. I just n-need you. I need you right now.”

That was when Rick could make out the outline of Morty’s erection in the boy’s briefs. Rick nodded a slow nod and went, “Uh huh.” before getting to his feet and flicking the light. Cautiously, he stepped closer to his grandson. “I got a feeling about what this behavior is. Open your eyes wide, Morty. I don’t know if I can risk touching you.”

Morty opened his eyes so wide he felt the sting of the strain. His pupils were large, irises bordered by a dark red. Rick stood as close as he could without touching Morty and grunted with a sudden finality.

“Looks like you’ve got- got a variation of the Foistock virus.”

“F-f-foistock virus?” Morty parroted nervously.

“Yup. Red ring around the irises, big pupils, blue blood vessels. We gotta figure out what the first being you saw was after contracting the virus and then you’re going to have to mate with them. You touch any other person or any other person touches you, wham bam, Morty, you d-drop dead. Just like that.”

Morty’s face contorted. “I-I’m scared, Rick.”

“Calm down, Morty. Finding the person who you first looked- first looked at is easy, because they’ll be completely encoded into your thoughts down to the location.” Rick had stepped back and seated himself, crossing one leg over the other. “Who do you've got on the mind, Morty? I just hu-hope it's not either of your parents.”

Morty thought. He thought hard, and he grew frustrated because he felt like he had to claw through a billion thoughts of Rick to go deeper into his mind. The more thoughts of Rick he tore through, however, the more thoughts of Rick surfaced. The heat in his body raised, along with the pulsing of his needy cock. Just looking at Rick was making the fever more intense, the arousal becoming far more pressing. “This isn’t- isn’t working, Rick.”

“C-come on, Morty. What are you thinking of? Who’s on your mind? I haven’t got- h-haven’t got all night, Morty.”

“I’m not thinking of anyone, Rick. There’s just a lot of you p-popping up in my head and that’s it. Help me find out who it is.” Morty groaned, rubbing at his temples to focus his concentration. He looked to Rick for some sort of aid, but Rick stared for a few moments before pinching the bridge of his nose and groaning audibly.

“Fuck.” Rick sighed.

“What I-i-is it, Rick? What’s g-going on?”

“Y-you’re really putting me in between a r-rock and a hard place, Morty, you know that?” Rick reached into his lab coat’s pocket and pulled out his flask.

“W-What are you talking about, Rick?” Once again, Morty pooled all of his effort and concentration into putting it all together until the implication dawned on him. He stretched his mouth and began whining shrill and terrified. “Oh. Oh no. Oh no, no, no, no, no.” He shook his head rapidly, but once he was aware of his conflict deviant thoughts about his grandfather flooded into his head.

“I’m gonna have to-” Rick paused and took a long swig from his flask. “I-I’m going to have to fuck you if you want to live, Morty. Do you want to live?”

Exasperated, Morty began shouting. “I-I don’t want to die, Rick. I don’t want to die! H-how can you even ask that?”

“Then I’m going to h-have to- I’m going to have to fuck you, Morty. I’m going to have to fuck you until I expel my-” Rick paused, belching. “My semen inside you. The moment I touch you, you’re going to lose all of your rational thought. You’re going- going to become a masochist, Morty. Y-you’re going to ask me to do some really weird shit to you.”

“I can’t-” Morty paused, shaking his head. “I won’t- I can’t believe-” His face flickered through an array of different expressions, ranging from distress, to horror and ultimately to defeat. “If-if it means I-I won’t die, f-fine.”

“Let’s get,” Rick belched and wiped a trail of saliva from his chin. “Let’s get into the garage, Morty.”  
Every step was an agonizing tease to his arousal. Morty walked behind his grandfather and became fixated on Rick’s gait. Every step was matched by his shoulders. To Morty the strut was masculine and powerful. It commanded his focus and made him feel frail and childish next to Rick. He had to swallow back the saliva that pooled in his mouth.

Rick had shut and locked the door that led from the house into the garage. He fished for a device in the drawers of his work desk, finding a disc-shaped one with a big green button on top. He tapped it and set it down. “Sound proofing,” he said flatly.

“A-am I r-really going to be that loud?”

“You’re already loud, Morty. Foistock is going to make it worse.” Rick had his lab coat to slide off his shoulders. He draped it over the chair placed in front of his desk, but not before taking another gulp of the scotch he kept in his flask. “I’m going to- to touch you now, Morty. I’m going to put my hand on your shoulder and we’ll work from there.”

There was a scent unique to Rick that Morty had only noticed in that moment, and with every inch closer the two got, the more overwhelmingly desirable the scent grew. And then Morty felt a hand on his shoulder. The point of contact had grown so hot that the boy believed the skin on his shoulder was going to burn right off.

Morty groaned out. His worries were lost, melted into a haze of one command his brain kept hammering out: Fuck. That’s what Morty wanted. Yeah, he wanted to fuck. He wanted to use his body and grind and sweat and let out every little sound he could make until he was hoarse and and gasping.

He pulled and tore at Rick’s clothing. Rick was forced to slap the prying hands away to remove his own clothing. Morty had stepped out of his own briefs and pressed his body against Rick’s, bucking against his grandfather's thigh like a horny little dog. Morty ran his hands along Rick’s torso. He palmed gray nipples, trailing his hands down further over the ribcage, the stomach, the pelvic area. He tightened his hand around the shaft of Rick’s cock, feeling it limp in his hand. He looked up at Rick’s face, who had his gaze fixated at something in his periphery.

“I need you to fuck me,” Morty begged with a fervor in his voice that was foreign to the both of them. “I need it so badly.”

Rick stuck his fingers into his mouth and demanded that Morty bend over for him. The boy compliantly folded himself over the desk and spread his legs. A spit-greased finger wriggled into his tight ring. A soft, pleased noise sounded at the back of Morty’s throat.

“Wait a second, Morty. I gotta find- gotta find some lube.” He withdrew his finger.

Morty began whimpering. “Touch me, Rick. Please, just keep touching me. I don’t care about lube, Rick. It’s okay if it hurts. It’s better if it hurts.”

Rick settled his hand between the shoulder blades. Under his hand, Morty had writhed. His back arched so that his ass jutted out, wiggling and pleading for attention. Rick’s hand had moved down to Morty’s ass. He stuck a finger in dry and was met with a bit of resistance. “You gotta push out a little bit, Morty. Push out and it’ll be easier on both of us.” Soon after he was able to sink his index finger down to the knuckle.

After some jerks of his first finger, he eased his middle finger alongside the pointer finger. Morty’s hole tensed briefly before relaxing around the added digit. His free hand fumbled with his own cock in a haphazard attempt to get himself hard enough to properly fuck.

Morty turned his head, saw Rick struggling to keep his cock hard. “Let me help you, Rick.”

Rick didn’t protest. He withdrew his fingers and stood back, letting Morty slide off the desk and wrap his mouth around the head of his tool. He sighed into the wet heat, groaned into the tongue circling around his head. There was a gentle, clumsy scrape of teeth. Eagerly, Morty sucked and took the length of the tool into the back of his throat. It didn’t take long for Rick to get hard, expanding in his grandson’s mouth.

Morty pulled back to cough and suck in a breath. He wiped the saliva from his chin and went back to licking the head of Rick’s erection, lapping at the precum. The rings around Morty’s irises had grown in circumference, the red darkening in color. He sprung to his feet and bent himself over the desk again, spreading his ass. “I need you inside me. Please, I need you to fuck me.”

Cock slick with spit, Rick pushed himself against Morty’s hole. “Push-push out for me, Morty. Push out for me.” Even slicked, it was a struggle. Morty pushed out and Rick pushed in with increased force. He stopped immediately when Morty cried out under him.

“Keep going,” Morty urged, voice hoarse from his whimpering and grunting. “I need it to hurt. Please, Rick.”

For a moment, Rick hadn't said anything. His hand gently squeezed Morty's shoulder. “Hold your breath,” Rick instructed before drawing back. Rick sucked in a breath before aligning the tip with the pucker and plunging his way in. He felt the wetness of the blood begin to trail down his shaft after creating a slight tear in Morty’s hole. Under him, Morty was writhing and bucking and screaming. Rick had slowed to halt, settling deep inside Morty to allow the boy to adjust.

“Do it, Rick,” Morty begged. The boy was sobbing, face red and scrunched. “I want it.”  
The boy was so small under him. Rick leaned over his grandson and his body nearly swallowed Morty’s. Doing what was begged of him, he began thrusting, rolling his hips until he bottomed out.  
Between indeterminable noises, Morty had squeaked, “Touch me.” Rick snaked a hand around Morty’s erection. Slick from sweat and pre-cum, Rick’s fingers slid across the head. Morty reacted with gentle moans at the prodding, exhaling out at the tightened hand around his shaft.

Rick picked up the rhythm of his rutting. He slammed into Morty’s ass with wet slaps sounding every time their hips met. The blood made it a little easier on the both of them.

“Choke me,” Morty panted. He reached for the hand that gripped his cock and guided it up to his throat. The other hand followed around a neck slim enough to allow him to clasp his hands and squeeze. The boy under him sputtered and spat up. The noises at the back of his throat no longer sounded human. His body leaned and tensed into Rick’s cock desperately. It was a race between his orgasm and his consciousness and the race was close. Morty could feel his face tightening. From a miserable red, his complexion faded into a breathless purple.

But his orgasm had won. With a final, violent jerk of his body Morty’s climax exploded all over the desk. A pool of it had dripped onto the floor. Rick unclasped his fingers and Morty sucked in short, panicked breaths.

Now Rick had closed his eyes and fastened his hands on Morty’s hips. He pounded into the boy, exhaling loudly and grunting before forcing his own climax. He sunk into Morty as deep as his cock would let him and came, shooting his load in his grandson’s ass.

They held the moment to catch their breaths. Once their heartbeats stilled and Morty’s face returned to something resembling its original color, Rick had slowly, carefully pulled out of Morty. A thin trail of pinkish semen followed its way out. Morty’s hole was reddened and distended. His legs were shaking under him. He sank onto the ground, kneeling, cradling his head in his hands.

“Fuck, am I-I going to remember all of that?” Post-orgasmic and sleep deprived, Morty was not as hysteric as he could have been.

“All of that, for the rest of your life. I had Foistock once, myself, Morty. It’s one of this universe’s many ways to fuck with your mind.” Rick had scavenged through his coat for his flask before downing a considerable amount. He bent down level to his grandson and offered the container with a hard stare. “So you just gotta fuck with your mind more to deal with it all.”

Without even a moment’s hesitation, Morty grabbed at the flask and drank the remaining contents. Rick handed over Morty’s boxers, and the kid was almost afraid to look up at his grandfather, but he did. He was relieved to see that Rick wasn’t looking at him any differently. Through all the trauma, he cracked a small smile and began laughing nervously. The smile spread to Rick. He patted Morty on the head before the two let up and returned to their rooms for the night.

It wouldn’t be alright, but Morty was quickly learning “alright” didn’t really have a meaning. That was reassurance enough.


End file.
